


Girl of Seasons

by peanutbutterapple



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Post-Winter, a WHOLE lot of fluff, reflections on some sad parts of the Lunar Chronicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 15:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11164551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutbutterapple/pseuds/peanutbutterapple
Summary: “I know,” Winter said, turning her eyes back to the air, the side of her face still pressed into his shirt. She thought she meant,I love you.“Good,” Jacin said. He leaned his head against the top of hers, and Winter thought he meant,I love you too.-Winter heals. She and Jacin learn how to be together. Set after Winter.





	Girl of Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the Stars Above short stories this will spoil you for the story "Something Old, Something New." Also I haven't read Wires and Nerve yet so...disregard that if it applies. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy :)

Before Winter went in for her surgery, Jacin became a boy of ice and snow.

They stood in the hallway outside the operation room where Winter would soon have the prototype of Cinder’s device installed in her head. Jacin was pale with anxiety, face frozen over with terror as the doctor finally called her in. Frost began to form over the skin of his face, clinging to his eyelashes, freezing over his eyebrows and his lips. Icicles sharp as knives clung to the ends of his hair.

Winter had seen the rest of her friends earlier. They had wished her well, offered their support and hugs and well wishing, none of them particularly unnerved by the potential outcome, trusting of the doctor and expecting success. Well, Cress had seemed a bit nervous for her. Cress was sweet. Cinder had hugged her a beat longer than the rest, which had surprised Winter, as Cinder had not seemed touchy in the short time she’d been reacquainted with her, but Cinder understood better than the rest. And it meant something, coming from her cousin.

Winter was not scared, not very much. Hallucinations had plagued her for too many years and now, after Amery, it was too much to bare. Fantasy and reality blended too seamlessly.

She knew Amery was dead, but she saw him, covered in blood, on the ground in front of her. Or late at night, creeping around in the dark corners of her room.

She knew Levana was dead, but she was there, at the end of the hallway, imposing, oppressive, a knife in hand. A gun. Her father’s head. Jacin’s.

The palace walls were ice and they were blood and they were fire and they were-

Jacin’s arms were Jacin’s arms, and Scarlet’s were Scarlet’s, and Wolf’s were Wolf's, once, and Winter had never seen so much fear in the eyes of one of the queen’s soldiers. But he had held her; they all did, now. Her friends.

Only Ryu she would miss. 

She reached both of her hands forward, cupping Jacin’s face in her palms, his cheeks so bitterly cold it was like pressing her hands to an ice sculpture. She rubbed her thumbs over his cheek bones, hoping for some color.

Winter wasn’t afraid for herself, but she was afraid that Jacin might freeze over.

“Winter,” he said, and his voice came out in a puff of cold air. She felt his icy fingers grip her elbow. “Winter.”

The very sheen of his eyeballs were freezing over. The frost was spreading over the backs of her own fingers.  His skin was frozen raw. He had saved her from this very fate so many times.

Choking back a sob, she reached up and pressed her warm lips to his purple ones. It took a moment for the thaw to begin, and for a panicked second Winter thought she was too late.

Then his fingers twitched on her elbow, and slowly, his lips grew soft against hers. She leaned into him, and she could feel the frost receding from her fingers.

When she pulled away, lips tingling from cold and warm both, a red flush was spreading over his nose, melting the snow from his cheek. The icicles dripped from the ends of his hair onto the shoulders of his guard uniform. His lips were pink again, eyes blue and alive.

Winter sighed in relief, and Jacin pressed his forehead against hers. _Warm, warm, warm._

“Princess Winter?” Dr. Nandez said again, standing in the doorway.

Winter pulled back. “Coming, Doctor,” she said. And then, to Jacin, with a smile and a squeeze of his hand. “See you soon.”

His fingers fell away, warm and alive, and she followed the doctor into the operation room.

She was a girl of ice and snow no longer.

 

*

 

When Winter stepped out of the Lunar ship, she gasped. The air felt so _different_ on Earth.

It was…fresh, it smelled sweet, and it was cool against her skin and it swept her hair all around her face. Little goosebumps broke out along her arms.

She couldn’t help the giddy laugh that escaped her lips. She grasped at Jacin’s sleeve as he stepped out of the ship beside her.

“Jacin, it’s- it’s-” Winter didn’t have the words. The sun was shining brightly overhead in the very, very blue sky, and the leaves were all kinds of reds and oranges and greens, and everything felt so _natural_ and _bright._

“I think we need to get you a jacket,” Jacin said, frowning down at her bare arms.

“It feels _glorious,_ ” Winter said, spreading out her arms and twirling around in the sunlight. She laughed again, hair becoming tangled in front of her face. “Earth is so much more than you’ve ever made it sound like.”

She stopped in front of Jacin, panting, heart racing, fully aware of the wild grin on her face. Jacin reached forward and brushed the hair out of her eyes, her mouth, and tucked it as best as he could behind her ears. When he met her gaze, the wind sweeping his own pale locks out of his loose ponytail, there was a soft smile on his face.

“We’ve been on Earth less than a minute,” he said.

“A minute is all it takes,” Winter said, overtly condescending. Then she grinned again.  

Jacin rolled his eyes and took one of her hands. “Come on, Kai’s waiting.”

“Do you think he’ll let us have our ambassadorial meetings outside?” she asked as the rest of the small Lunar crew began closing up the ship, an extra Lunar guard trailing behind them. Jacin had found this entirely unnecessary, and a _little_ insulting , but precautions were precautions with peace being so new between Earth and Luna, and it being Winter’s first ever trip to Earth.

“I suspect that if you ask Kai, he might have a hard time saying no,” Jacin said.

“Do you think?” Winter asked, fluttering her lashes at him. Jacin looked away and sighed, but bumped his shoulder against hers.

The cool air grew warm as they stepped into the palace of Emperor Kaito. Winter pushed her hair back from her face again, eyes greedily taking in the detail of the inner palace.

It was exquisite and timeless in a way that the Artemisia had not yet been given enough time to achieve. Walls and pillars were decorated with painstaking detail, reds and greens and blues and golds. It was glossy and efficient; even the glass had exquisite designs etched into it. Maybe they could have a _few_ meetings inside the palace.

When they reached the end of the hall a pair of great doors opened, and they were met with the friendliest royal face Winter had so recently become acquainted with. Along with Cinder, of course.

Kai gave a deep, formal bow, but when he looked up and met their eyes, he broke into a wide smile.

“Princess Winter, Jacin,” he said, spreading his arms. “Welcome to Earth.”

 

*

 

It was after their first ambassadorial meeting in Australia that Winter said, “I think we ought to explore.”

It was much warmer in Australia than it had been in the Eastern Commonwealth, due to the fact, Winter had learned, that they were now in the southern hemosphere.

“A warm winter!” Winter had said, delighted, after they had stepped out of their ship and into the bright sunshine.

“I do believe, Princess,” Jacin said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, still in his heavy guard uniform, “that this is what they refer to as summer.”

After their morning’s meeting they had the rest of the day to do with as they pleased. Jacin might have said there was always work to be done, if she’d asked, but she didn’t, and Winter could have sworn the sunshine was begging them to go outside.

It was not a hallucination. 

Winter’s mind was much clearer these days. Of course, the device had not erased the memories of what she had seen, experienced, _done,_ and her memories still visited her, mostly at night, but when her eyes were open her mind was a much less fearful place. It still took getting used to, it still took healing, and she was working on it.

And if there was anyone happier – no, more _relieved_ – than her, it was Jacin. “You’ll need to find someone else who needs your protecting now,” she had said, quite teasingly, some after her operation. But Jacin had looked at her and said seriously, “Winter. I’ll stand by your side as long as you’ll let me.”

Winter planned on letting him for a very, very long time.

If he could keep up, that was.

She climbed up the rocky hillside, hands gripping the sun-baked rocks to pull herself up. She had not realized it would be so treacherous; from a distance, the hillside was covered in colorful blossoms. Winter had the idea that she would pick some, but obviously this was not going to be such a delicate venture.

She felt a bead a sweat slide down the side of her face, and she was glad that she had pulled her hair back. Jacin trailed several feet behind her.

“One would think that your guard training would have made you a speedier climber,” she said, glancing back at him as she attempted to catch her breath, unable to help the grin on her lips.

“It wasn’t often that we were required to scale craters.” Jacin squinted up at her with a smirk. He did sound far less winded than her.

The top of the hill was flat and green, and Winter collapsed into a short patch of grass, panting and sweaty.

“I win,” she said as she was still catching her breath when Jacin crested the hill.

“You didn’t tell me it was a competition,” he said, sitting down, hard, beside her. He pushed the loose, sweaty hair out of his face. He was panting only slightly, cheeks pink.

“I assumed you’d catch on,” she said, looking up at him.

“If I had, you wouldn’t be the winner.” He smirked.

That, Winter knew, was true. Jacin did not let people win, not even herself. She smiled and closed her eyes, turning her face toward the sun. Her pulse had decelerated.  

“I did not know,” she said, “that it could be so hot.”

Jacin snorted. “Wait till we get to Africa.”

That was where he had been with Cinder the last time he was on Earth. Winter hoped when they arrived there this time around, the visit would not be so unpleasant.

Winter squinted an eye open, peaking up at him again. His own eyes were closed, soaking in the sun like she was. His pale hair seemed even paler in the sunlight. The first few buttons of his shirt had been left undone, arms and legs bare in the heat, one ankle crossed over the other, usual heavy boots still on his feet. There was no end to the delight it brought Winter to see him dress so casually since they had begun their Earthen venture. He looked handsome in his guard’s uniform, but without it he was more… _Jacin._

It had been a very long time since she had seen him look so relaxed. Winter’s heart warmed. They had come so far.

She pushed herself back up, her breath back to normal. She gazed around at the flowers and the grass swaying in the breeze, then up at the sky, the most expansive blue she’d seen, not a single cloud to be seen. Not that Winter didn’t like clouds, because she did, and she was _very_ curious about what it was going to be like to experience rain for the first time.

It was a marvel, how the Earth could be so _bright._

She picked a few flowers from the grass and began to arrange them into a small bouquet, something she’d learned from the florist on Artemisia during the long days Jacin had been gone, or she had an afternoon with nothing to do because she had no gift to practice, no school to attend.

After a few minutes she realized Jacin was watching her. Putting down her own bouquet, she carefully picked a handful of wildflowers growing nearby. “Let me show you,” she said, holding up the flowers. “It’ll make you a very special guard, I think, to know how to arrange flowers. You will be able to woo all the girls.” She gave him a sideways smile.

“Is that all it takes?” Jacin said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but if you know a girl who likes flowers, it won’t make it harder,” Winter said, winking, as she separated the flowers by color and handed them to him one by one.

He arranged it far quicker than Winter expected. “I didn’t realize you had such a knack for color,” she said, eyes bright, leaning over his flowers to see better.

Jacin accepted the compliment with the barest of half smiles, but when he handed the bouquet out to her it became more genuine.

Winter took them and touched her free hand to her chest. “You shouldn’t have.”

Jacin snorted and leaned back into the grass. Winter watched him for a moment, fidgeting with the stems between her fingers. Absently, she let her eyes drift around the little hilltop.

“Oh!” she said as her eyes fell on the opposite end of the hill. When Jacin sat up again, she smiled slyly at him.

“I think we’re going to have a much easier time getting down the hill,” she said.

Jacin followed her gaze, and his expression fell flat. “Well. Isn’t that convenient.”

The far side of hill, opposite to the side they’d climbed up, consisted of a gentle, grassy slope.

“I was testing your endurance.” Winter winked at him.

“I hope I passed.”

“With flying colors.” She paused. “Well, except for the fact that I beat you.”

“A test _and_ a competition,” Jacin said. He sighed exaggeratedly. “Royalty. You never make it easy on the rest of us.”

“I think you just need to try harder.”

Jacin raised an eyebrow.

Winter stood up, brushing the dirt off the back of her pants with the hand that wasn’t holding Jacin’s flowers. They stopped before her knees, cool and light in the heat. _Pants,_ now those were something she’d been deprived of all these years as a Lunar princess. No more worries about bending over! Or climbing!

Or running.

Without warning, she took off down the hall.

“Not fair!” Jacin yelled out behind her.

Winter flew down the side of the hill, breeze on her face, grass up to her ankles, tickling her skin so much that halfway down she tumbled into the grass. Jacin called out behind her, but Winter was laughing as she rolled the rest of the way down. She saw _sky, ground, sky, ground, sky, ground-_

Jacin’s face loomed over her as she came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, giggling and out of breath. He knelt beside her.

“You beat me,” she breathed, smiling up at him.

“It’s a bit faster not to fall,” he said, picking a piece of grass out of her hair, and then another. No doubt it was a mess, but Winter was far more focused on Jacin’s face as he picked out a few more bits of plant life. The look on his face was attentive, borderline studious. When her hair was deemed grass-free, he patted back the impossible curls that had gotten loose from her ponytail with a careful, marked gentleness. Winter stared.

They were in the shade of the trees, and the sun dipped low over Jacin’s face. Staring up at him, his mangled flowers still grasped tightly in her hand, Winter thought he looked so beautiful that she nearly had a second bout of breathlessness. Staring up at him, her feelings for him rose to the surface so quickly it caused a sudden, physical pain in her chest.

“Jacin,” she said. He met her eyes.

They had not been so perfectly alone in years. Earth felt infinity times bigger than Luna ever had.

She reached up and touched his face. Immediately he stilled, but he didn’t pull away as she let her fingers graze his cheek before drifting to his jaw, skin softer than one might expect, while the angle was sharp. His hair was such a delicate shade of yellow, even in the shade, and his blue eyes were the only place she’d been able to call home for a very long time.

Winter had seen her own reflection since coming to Earth, in mirrors and windows and glass. It was hard to escape a reflection here. She was pretty, yes, she could finally see that for herself. Scarred from Levana’s knife and scarred from the plague, if one looked closely, which was how she most liked to look. Pretty, sure.

But Jacin, he was the most beautiful boy in the world. He was like the sun, and how anyone could see her when he was shining so brightly she didn’t know. Perhaps that was just it- his light was cast upon her. Winter certainly felt his warmth.

But it was his gentle heart that made her love him. The light started there.

He was her best friend.

Her hand drifted to the side of his head; his skin was sticky, his hair soft. Winter’s heart thudded wildly in her chest.

They were so alone. They were free. They could be anyone, just two kids in the woods.

But Winter would rather be herself, and he be Jacin. Alone, and free, and together.

When she finally moved to kiss him, he met her halfway.

There was no hesitation on either of their parts, just a fierce, crushing need. He kissed her hard, lips warm and firm and _real_ , and Winter felt every cell of her body burn as bright as a million stars. Her other hand buried itself into his hair, flowers and all, and she pulled him closer.

Closer, _closer_ , always closer. After the distance that had been enforced between them, after thousands of impossible fantasies that had dazzled her mind every night, every day - helping her sanity or aiding her madness, she was never sure - she only wanted him _closer._ Against her lips, in her arms, never taken away. Winter had loved Jacin for so long, with every single part of herself.

They had kissed several times since defeating Levana, since coming to Earth. But not like this, not like they had in the menagerie. But that was a kiss of desperation, and this was not.

Winter parted her mouth against his. Her heart was on fire in her chest. She was not a girl of ice and snow.

When they broke apart, foreheads pressed to each other, Jacin’s breath was shaking against her lips and it took Winter a moment to realize that both of them were trembling. Winter lay flat on her back in the grass, breathing as if she had just run the length the hill again, euphoria rushing through her veins.

Jacin pulled back slightly and she met his gaze. His cheeks were flushed red, lips adorably pink.  His eyes were wide, and bright, and amazed, like he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. It was so off kilter from his usual stoic expression that Winter wasn’t able to control the giggles that suddenly bubbled up in her chest, bursting out of her in a fit of utter joy.

Jacin’s face relaxed at the sound, his lips softening into a smile. He pushed her loose curls back from her forehead, just looking at her. “Winter,” he said. He looked at flowers in her hand, crushed and ruined but still colorful, still hanging on by a leaf or a stem. “I guess those did work.”

Winter laughed, and then she pulled him into another kiss, and he went easily. 

 

*

 

“I don’t know how you did this all the time,” Cinder said wearily, blowing a loose piece of hair out of her face, escaped from her pony tail. “How you _still_ do it all the time.”

Winter smiled at her cousin through the portscreen. Cinder looked exhausted, two half-moon shadows beneath her eyes. “ _You’re_ the one that truly has royal blood, Cousin.”

Cinder groaned and Winter laughed, curling her legs up onto the cushions of the couch, perched on a balcony. Light rain pattered on the roof, dripping down into the dark streets below. The sky was darkening over wet landscape, luscious and green and thick with trees, but it was still light enough that Cinder could see her through the screen. Humidity pressed in around her, but Winter didn’t mind it so much.

“Cinder,” she said, eyes firmly on the screen, “you’re made of tough stuff. I’ve seen it myself.” Her voice softened. “But I know it’s a lot. Just keep your chin up, you’re doing so well.”

Cinder cracked a small smile. “Thanks, Winter.” She paused, looking away from the screen. “I just wish- I mean, I have Iko, but-”

Cinder broke off, but Winter could hear the edge of longing in her voice. She waited for Cinder to continue.

“I miss Earth,” she said quietly. “I miss- everyone’s so far away. Luna’s pretty, but it’s not...it’s not mine.”

Winter’s heart hurt for her. She remembered the longing, the gnawing emptiness she felt when whenever Jacin had been away from Luna. But for Cinder, it wasn’t just Kai- _all_ of her friends were here. Except Iko, which was more than Winter ever had, but she knew that didn’t take away the ache she felt for the rest of her friends and for the planet she knew best.

“Do you miss Luna?” Cinder asked her.

Winter thought about it. It would be unfair to say that Luna held only bad memories, because it didn’t. When she thought of the good times, she thought of her father, and it brought warmth and kindness and laughter. She thought of Jacin. She thought of the kind residents of Artemisia and the children who made her flower crowns.

But her father was gone, and Jacin was here, and the citizens and children were no longer under Levana’s oppressive rule. And neither was Winter under her stepmother’s rule, but that was the taste that remained in her mouth when she thought of Luna. Years and years of oppression, and a nation that had taken her sanity.

A place where the walls oozed red, where a knife cut her face and a man bled out on the street because of her. Where a man – men, women, people – had done such vile things.

Winter listened to the rain. Earth was so big, and green, and free of the manipulation that had plagued Luna. Jacin was by her side, and her new friends were a short flight away, standing on the same soil she was. Winter felt free here.

So she said, “Not exactly,” and she felt a pang of longing to have Cinder’s actual presence here, not unfamiliar. Except this was far better than believing she was dead.

“I don’t blame you,” Cinder grumbled.

“All these years, you were here and I was there,” Winter said. “It seems cruel that it should be reverse now.”

“But it was worse for you here,” Cinder said.

Winter smiled at her. “I mean, that we’re not in the same place.” Her smile broadened into a grin, and she leaned closer to her portscreen. “When we were little we were the best of friends.”

Cinder looked surprised. “You remember it that well?”

“Well enough,” Winter said, shrugging. She remembered the nursery, she remembered made up games and blanket forts and giggles. “You were my best friend, Cinder,” she said again.

Cinder raised an eyebrow. “Not Jacin?”

Winter scrunched her nose. “He was a boy.”

“Right. Gross.” Cinder smirked, and then the both of them laughed.

Winter felt the soft touch of fingertips on her shoulder, and she turned. She hadn’t heard Jacin walk out onto the balcony.

Jacin leaned over the back of the couch, peering into Winter’s portscreen. “What are you two laughing about?”

“How gross boys are,” Winter offered immediately.

“Specifically you,” Cinder didn’t hesitate to add.

“Thanks,” Jacin said dryly. “Just when I thought I could finally trust Lunar royalty.”

Cinder grinned, and Winter reached back and ran a hand through Jacin’s hair. It was soft, the first time she’d seen him wear it down since they’d arrived in the Amazon. It was easier to keep it pulled back in the tropical climate.

“We were just reminiscing our younger years,” Winter explained.

Jacin leaned in to her touch. “How can Cinder reminisce if she doesn’t remember anything?”

“I can imagine you were probably as much fun then as you are now,” Cinder said, shooting him a smirk through the portscreen.

That made Jacin smile. “No, I was much more fun then. Shame you missed out.”

“It’s true,” said Winter. Jacin nudged her shoulder.

Cinder rolled her eyes, but there was an upward tilt to her lips.

They disconnected a short while later, once the daylight had waned so much that Winter and Jacin were nearly reduced to silhouettes.

Jacin climbed over the back of the couch, plopping down easily on the cushion beside Winter. Immediately she scooted closer to him, though it was not a far distance to breech.

“I don’t think many people would enjoy close contact in this kind of weather,” Jacin said as she nestled against his side and physically readjusted his arm so that it wrapped around herself.

Winter looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Does it bother you?”

“No.”

“Then I see no problem.”

The side of Jacin’s lips quirked. Winter settled herself against his side, satisfied.

The air was very warm, but it was far more so during the day, and the humidity persisted despite the rain. It pattered loudly on the heavy leaves hanging from the trees, on the roof and the roofs of the shelters around them. Insects hummed relentlessly, and the chirping of birds could be heard echoing in the trees even at such a late hour. The air smelled damp, and fresh, and green as the trees and vines and the roots around them, entangling themselves in everything.   

This place was so _alive._

Winter liked that she could feel it, the way it clung to her skin and her hair and her clothes. She could understand why someone might not like it, but it was not ice, or fire, or blood, or manufactured oxygen.

But it did remind her of the menagerie. She took comfort in the sounds of the animals, the sight of birds and monkeys and things she had not laid eyes on before. She thought of Ryu.

Amidst the raindrops and the buzzing and the chirps, Winter could hear Jacin’s gentle breathing, could feel the rise and fall of his chest. She could stay like this for ever and ever and ever.

“I think,” Winter said, “that I am very happy that you did not kill me when Levana asked you to.”

Jacin’s arm stilled slightly around her, and Winter suddenly regretted ruining the moment with her words. “It was more of an order than asking,” he finally said. His arm slowly relaxed again, and Winter felt relieved when she heard some wryness creep into his voice. “And ‘you think?’”

“I _know_ ,” Winter said, and turned so that her face was pressed into the soft fabric of his shirt. He smelled clean and familiar.  

Jacin pressed a kiss into her mound of hair, curls ten times wilder in the humidity. “I never would have done it, not for anything. You know that, right?”

Winter remembered the moment when she had believed he would do it, when she had given up everything and confessed her feelings and kissed him, because she would not die without that.

Levana had been so good at manipulation.

“I know,” Winter said, turning her eyes back to the air, the side of her face still pressed into his shirt. She thought she meant, _I love you._

“Good,” Jacin said. He leaned his head against the top of hers, and Winter thought he meant, _I love you too._

 

*

 

“I,” Winter said, “am a girl of ice and snow.”

“You’re crazy,” Jacin’s voice came from overhead, amused.

Winter opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the sky, everything a solid, bright white. She could see the flakes drifting down in clumps overhead, feel their cold kiss when they landed on her cheeks. She grinned.

Jacin leaned into her field of vision, his hair yellower than normal amidst the white backdrop, peeking out from beneath a woolen cap of light blue that she had knitted him herself. His cheeks were a pleasant shade of pink.

She held out a hand toward him. He merely raised an eyebrow at it.

Winter fluttered her lashes at him. “Help me up?”

He crossed his arms.

“If I had known you’d be so rude, I would have brought a different guard out with me today,” she said. She lowered her hand, but made no attempt to move.

Jacin rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t be nearly as amusing to you to trick a _different_ guard into falling on his face.”

“That is true,” Winter said, considering. She smiled up at him, projecting all innocence. “But I would never do such a thing.”

Jacin sighed, and then, reluctantly, held out his hand. Grinning, Winter reached up for it, snowflakes swirling in the space between their gloved fingers.

Her hand fit into his, but before she could yank him downwards, he tugged her up, quick as a flash.

She stumbled forward into his arms, legs unprepared for the sudden leap. Winter scowled up at his smug face, gripping his forearms.

“Not funny,” she said, frowning.

“Very funny,” he said, and kissed her forehead. Winter felt her cheeks warm slightly and hated herself for it.

They were in a town in Russia, which Winter found amusing, seeing as this exact time the previous year they had been in Australia, which at this very moment was probably scorching. The sun blazed there while snowflakes fell head here, burying Jacin in his hat. Winter reached up and dusted them off his head.

It was not Winter’s first time in the snow, but it was still new to her, and she decided she loved it. The way it made everything quiet and still, a literal blanket covering everything. Houses crowded the sides of their tiny road, and a small, ancient church at the end of the street was half buried beneath the falling snow. A hover passed by occasionally overhead, people bustled by sometimes, faces lost beneath scarves, and children’s laughter could be heard a few houses down, but mostly, it was quiet.

Winter thought was beautiful. It was everything her mother had embroidered on her baby blanket and more.

“Winter?”

She looked up and met Jacin’s eyes again, so impossibly blue amidst all the white. They matched his hat.

“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly, reaching up and gently untangling some curls that had frozen over.

Winter’s mouth twitched upward. “I am the girl of ice and snow,” she said, eyes shifting toward the sky. “I am glad my mother named me for this season.”

Jacin smiled. It was a smile that had come to appear much more frequently over the past year, and it filled Winter with warmth every single time.  

“It can be so harsh, but…”

“It’s peaceful,” Jacin finished for her, letting his hand drop to wrap around one of hers. “And kind of lovely.”

“Are you saying I’m lovely?”

“I’m saying Winter the _season_ is lovely,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Kind of.”

“Winter the season doesn’t realize quite how special it must be,” Winter said, lips quirking as she leaned a bit closer, “to be the subject of a compliment from Jacin Clay.”

“Kind of,” he said again quietly, before he closed the distance between them and kissed her.

Winter would never tire of it, kissing him. She could do it for the rest of her days. His lips were warm and entirely familiar by now, and the feeling flew straight to her heart. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he followed easily. A bit _too_ easily.

Winter let out a small yelp as they went backwards on to the ground, but the snow cushioned her premeditated fall. 

 _“Winter,”_ Jacin groaned, half on top of her, hat slipping from his ears. He rolled into the snow beside her and tried to right it.

She laughed, reached over and straightened it out, and then planted two more kisses on either of his cheeks. He was entirely adorable, but she kept the thought to herself.

When they had met up with Cress and Thorne several weeks before, Thorne, after a biting comment from Jacin (which might have been earned), had pointed at him and said, “You, sir, are a man with a soul of ice.”

Jacin had simply raised his eyebrows, unbothered.

Winter knew it was in fun – Jacin had grown fond of Thorne, Winter could tell, despite the front he put up – but it made her think. All those years in the palace in Artemisia, a team dwindled to two, they had built a protective barrier of ice and snow around them. Jacin, ice. Winter, snow,

Only now did she realize just how cold it had been.

His skin was warm where her lips had touched his cheeks. He looked back at her, eyes an open window to his heart. Winter thought of the scene on her baby blanket, divined by her mother. A forest of white, a mitten in the snow. But even her mother had known it was just a scene. The seasons were in constant motion. Winter had never imagined she’d experience them all so vividly.  

It was more beautiful than she’d ever imagined.

“I am a girl of ice and snow,” she whispered to him, to the snowflakes on the ground and in the air, “and I think I am very happy to be so.”

Jacin tugged gently on one of her curls. “I’m glad.”

She smiled, and then she pulled his hat over and eyes and kissed him until he couldn’t feel his toes.

 

*

 

“And that,” said Thorne, leaning back to admire his handiwork with a smug turn of the lips, “is the perfect touch, if I don’t say so myself.”

“Thank you very much, Captain Thorne,” Winter said, giving him a polite curtsy. Her royally trained posture came in handy for the first time in her life, not upsetting the newly tied bow around her neck. “You’ve really done your part in turning this into a formal affair.”

Thorne gave her a small bow. “It _is_ a historic day, and as Wolf’s best man-”

“I don’t have a best man,” Wolf said from a yard away, where he was dancing with Cress. Their size difference might be comical if it wasn’t so sweet.

“Are they not _all_ your best men?” said Winter, smiling brightly at Wolf with a wink Thorne couldn’t see.

“Yes, obviously,” said Thorne before Wolf could answer. “And I’m honored to share the title with the Commonwealth Emperor and Mr. Scowl over there, but _as_ I was saying, as Wolf’s best man, it is my honor to make his guests fit for his big day.” He waved a hand around the room, where all of their friends wore bow ties matching Winter’s, courtesy of Thorne, to compensate for their lack of formal wear. They were made of leftover pink ribbon.

“He’s just mad he spent too much money on decorations,” Wolf stage-whispered to Cress, who giggled.

“Hey!” Thorne said, pointing at Cress. She clamped her smiling lips over her teeth. “That one is just as much to blame. She insisted on all the frilly stuff. And aren’t you supposed to be _married?”_

He made as if to grab for Cress, but Winter grabbed him by the hand and twirled him around instead.

“You are quite a ruffian,” she said when they settled into a rhythm. 

Thorne winked, not missing a beat. “I didn’t serve two years in prison for nothing.”

After another round with Iko, one with Cinder and Cress, and one with the married man himself, Winter found herself drifting back to the arms she knew best.

“Oh, hello,” Winter said, settling her arms around his neck, the ends of his hair soft on her skin. “That bow looks quite nice on you.”

Jacin frowned. “It scratches.”

“I think it looks charming.” Winter winked.

Jacin’s lips twitched upward until his whole mouth was coaxed into a smile. That was all Winter ever wanted, to see him smile like that, happy and pleased and relaxed. The days when such a smile had been a rare sight were growing distant, smaller in her mind.

Because now here they were, on Earth, dancing and laughing at their friends’ wedding, free and full of something that felt a bit beyond happiness. Winter had never imagined what it might feel like to be part of a group of friends like this. It was the best thing in the universe, and though he might not say it, Winter knew Jacin felt the same way.

He lowered his lips to her ear and said in a low voice, “So, who do you think is the worst dancer?”

“Jacin,” she said, pulling back and meeting his eyes, stern. “They’re all trying their best.”

Jacin smirked at her. “It’s Thorne, isn’t it?”

Winter felt her own mouth twitch. “He’s working very hard and improving quickly.”

Jacin only laughed and Winter grinned.

The day wore into night, laughter grew louder and dancing grew more vigorous, and Winter’s feet began to ache but she didn’t want to stop.

“I should have known you guys were up to something,” Scarlet said, hanging off of Winter’s shoulder. “I knew that ‘wearing the dress for an hour a day’ thing sounded fake.”

“Oh, no, we do that,” said Winter, looking at her very seriously. Scarlet’s eyes narrowed, and then faltered when Winter’s expression didn’t change.

A smile finally bloomed across Winter’s face. “You’re right, it’s fake, and not time efficient at all.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes, but bumped her hip with Winter’s.

“Hey,” said Thorne, twirling Cress under his finger and bumping Scarlet’s other hip. “Where’d Kai and Cinder go? Last I heard, it’s not _their_ wedding night.” He wagged his eyebrows.

“They’re probably outside making eyes at each other under the moon,” Scarlet said, hooking her free arm around his shoulders. Cress twirled away and pulled Jacin, who’d been sprawled on the couch, back onto their makeshift dance floor. Iko and Wolf were doing a strange jig, which may in fact have been a two-person dance competition.

“Someone get me my portscreen so I can take a vid,” Scarlet said, eyes glittering. “I don’t think we’ll ever see Wolf dance like this again.” 

“Already got you covered,” said Thorne, who did, in fact, have his portscreen out and recording, tongue between his teeth. “And- oh, look at _that_ , Scowl’s got moves. Nearly as good as mine.” Winter’s eyes shifted to Jacin, who was twirling Cress around, and around, and _around,_ until she nearly fell over, dizzy and giggling. Jacin caught her, and when they looked at each other they both burst into laughter.

Winter felt an intense flood of affection for the both of them. For Cress, who deserved all the happiness in the world, and for Jacin, who Winter knew would always feel a measure of guilt for taking no action while he knew Sybil Mira kept her imprisoned. Winter was glad they were friends.

The party had nearly wound down by the time Kai and Cinder returned from whatever adventure they had disappeared to. Scarlet had been facing the wall, ready to toss her bouquet over her shoulder, an Earthen tradition that allegedly foretold who would be the next to marry, and while Winter didn’t care whether she was next or last, she did want to catch those flowers. Jacin had done a fantastic job with them.

“Better odds for us if Cinder’s not here,” Iko said to Winter and Cress, just seconds before Cinder and Kai walked through the door and the bouquet landed squarely in Cinder’s hands. “Oh, come on! I demand a re-throw!”

Cinder looked up at them all, eyes wide, almost terrified, like they all knew something she didn’t – or _she_ knew something _they_ didn’t, Winter speculated wryly – and Winter was sure that if Cinder could blush, her face would be red as Wolf and Scarlet’s tomatoes.

 

*

 

“Winter.” His voice was quiet.

She shifted her head on her pillow, the silhouette of his face outlined by faint moonlight snaking through the curtains. “Jacin?” They hadn’t been in bed for long, he knew she wouldn’t be asleep yet.

“Do you think…”

He trailed off, and she waited.

He took another breath and began again. “Do you think there’s still time enough that I could be a doctor?”

Winter didn’t hesitate with her answer. “Of course.” She inched slightly closer to him, not that the distance was great, or that they weren’t already touching. Every time they shared a room Winter would not waste that privilege. “You’re hardly twenty one. And Luna’s different now. Or-” She paused, a thought occurring to her. “ _Would_ you practice on Luna?”

“I think so,” he said, and Winter could tell he’d thought about it, considered all the options. He didn’t need to ask Winter if there was enough time. He knew. “Luna’s where my parents are. It’s where you…” He trailed off again.

Winter found his hand beneath the sheets and squeezed his fingers to let him know she knew what he meant. It made sense to want to be of help in a place where he had witnessed such suffering.

Things were different now, the prototype that Dr. Nandez had installed in Winter’s head a complete success. But there could always be others, there could always be something.

She felt unspeakably proud of him.

“You’re a good person, Jacin,” she said, and brought his hand up above the sheets so she could kiss it.

She could hear the amusement in his voice. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”

“Good, because my compliment is not a fish,” she said.

He laughed, but his voice turned serious again. “There’s still a lot of ambassadorial stuff to do, so it won’t be for a little while, and I wouldn’t just abandon you-”

“Jacin.” She cut him off with another kiss to his hand. “When you’re ready, you’ll go. And when you go, I’ll be with you. Even if we are not in the same place at the same time, no one will be abandoned.” She pressed one more kiss to his fingers and then tucked his hand beneath the side of her head like a pillow.

His head shifted and she could feel him looking at her in the darkness. It hurt her heart to think of being separated from him, not now that she’d had him by her side for so long. She knew he felt the same way, but it was a relief when all he said was, “Alright.”

She smiled, pressing her face into his shoulder and squeezing his hand. “Every particle of my being loves you, Jacin. It would not let you abandon me so easily.”

Jacin laughed quietly and shifted to wrap his free arm around her, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. “I’m glad every particle of your being feels that way. You don’t even know.”

Did she not, she wondered? Perhaps she didn’t. The words made her feel warm.

“I love you too, Winter,” he said softly into her hair, and Winter’s own gladness was enough ignite a million suns.

 

*

 

Winter yawned, her head leaning heavily on Jacin’s shoulder as he navigated the dark sky far above Earth.

“I think all these time differences have finally caught up with you,” Jacin said, flipping the ship into autopilot and kissing the side of her head.

“After two years?” said Winter, quirking her lips. “Perhaps.”

They had just departed from Luna and were heading back to earth after a lengthy stay. It wasn’t their first trip back, and Winter was grateful that every time they returned it seemed to get easier. First the work of Cinder, and now the Republic, had turned Luna into a very different place compared to the Luna Winter had known growing up. There was still much work to be done, only a percentage of which she was working to accomplish on Earth, but every day was a day of a new and better Luna, and Earth.

It had been lovely to see Cinder – Winter _knew_ Kai had proposed to her at Scarlet and Wolf’s wedding a few weeks ago – and lovelier still to see Jacin’s parents.

It had been hard for him, the first time they went to see them. Winter could feel the tension rolling off of him, the misgivings and apologies on the tip of his tongue. It had pained Winter, the talker, the charmer, the negotiator, to know it wouldn’t work for her to intercede here. It wasn’t about what she had to say.

As it turned out, no words had been needed. Jacin’s mother had barely laid eyes on him before she had pulled him into her arms, his father right behind her. No apologies needed, all of them forgiven anyway.

When Jacin’s parents turned to Winter, tears in their eyes and on their faces, and Jacin’s mother wrapped her arms around _her_ – Winter had never realized, in all her years on Luna and Earth, how much she craved a real mother’s touch.

Later, Jacin would tell her that it was one of those moments that he really couldn’t believe they’d really all made it out alive.

“I’m not sure it’ll be great news,” said Jacin, fingers tangled in the ends of her curls, “for you to hear that it’s the summer solstice in the Alaska, which means-”

“It’s the longest day of the year,” Winter finished for him. On the contrary, she perked up. “Sun for twenty-four hours straight!”

Jacin chuckled. “Good news, then.”

Winter grinned. She relaxed into the crook of his arm again. “There are festivals we could go to, it’s a celebration.” She had read up on it when they had gotten the date of the meeting weeks ago.

The line of the sun was beginning to appear over the horizon, deep blue blending into purple, fiery red into orange, yellow into a sliver of daylight blue. A sunrise. No, they were approaching from the east. A sun _set_. Winter had come to like those better. A moment of beauty followed by a night of rest.

Winter sighed. There was nothing like a sunset. If you missed one, you always had the next day.

But she’d yet to experience a full day of light on Earth. A much rarer sight, one that took being in the right place at the right time.

“I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen on Luna,” she said, eyes on the skyline, straddling Earth and Moon, “but…well, it is.”

Jacin pressed a kiss into her hair and let his body lean more closely against hers.

“Yeah,” he said softly, a solid rock beside her always. “It is.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Winter's my favorite, can you tell? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope I did Winter justice. And if you notice any geographical stuff I got wrong, or general inaccuracies, don't hesitate to point it out. I have not actually been to any of the places in this fic :O
> 
> You can find me at [hugoweasley](http://hugoweasley.tumblr.com/) on tumblr :)


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